


possible accident

by tragakes (lejf)



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, tbh this is crack to me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-08 12:46:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14694525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lejf/pseuds/tragakes
Summary: Starscream is repeatedly, unknowingly, nursed back to health by Soundwave after Megatron is done with him.When hedoesrealise, it strikes him that Soundwave is a much better prospective berth partner.





	possible accident

 

Performing his duty was sacrosanct.

There was not a millimetre of the ship that Soundwave did not have access to. His optics were all-seeing, his audials all-hearing, yet his judgement— reserved. Judgement was delivered by Megatron. _Calculation_ was delivered by Soundwave.

Calculations today told Soundwave that Starscream lay in a state of unconscious disrepair outside Megatron’s quarters. 

He detached himself from his console. It was simply another routine. The SIC was necessary. It would be unfavourable for subsequent raids or trainings to be delayed due to his injuries. Soundwave had ran a multitude of one-tailed tests on Starscream’s impact on battles in the past; the null hypothesis that he had no positive bearing upon them was rejected with a practically unprecedented p-value. 

Starscream was beneficial to the cause. This, Soundwave had computed. 

The seeker laid sprawled ungainly across the floor, his plating dented in obvious shapes of Megatron’s rough grasp.His intake was slack-jawed, valve open and torn, dirty. He was not beautiful. Soundwave did not understand what spurred Megatron to take Starscream to his berth again and again. Megatron had never taken _Soundwave_ , not once in all the thousands of years they had known each other. 

But if Starscream brought Megatron satisfaction, Soundwave would accept it. Soundwave duly accepted everything that Megatron chose. It was an axiom in his parameters. 

He took Starscream to his own quarters. After the first occurrence of this, Soundwave had deduced this to be the most convenient option. Soundwave’s quarters were directly adjacent to Megatron’s; no one else dared recharge to close. 

In his washracks that were otherwise unused, Soundwave lay Starscream beneath the spray and washed him down of dried energon and flushed out his valve. Silvery streaks of Megatron’s transfluid swirled out towards the drain. The confirmation that Megatron indeed interfaced with Starscream never failed to close Soundwave off further. He shut off any lingering emotional subroutines. Megatron would never choose him. This, too, was an axiom. 

After, Soundwave lay Starscream on the — also otherwise unused — berth. Temporary lacing was stitched into Starscream’s valve to hold the walls closer together, and nanite gel applied over the seams to accelerate self-repair. 

The movements were crisp. Rehearsed. Remnants of his carrier coding. Soundwave was nearly always the one to repair Laserbeak, unwilling to allow Knock Out near his symbiont when she was vulnerable.

The reason why Soundwave didn’t deliver Starscream to Knock Out was different. He knew the two of them had shared thoughts of mutiny on occasion — and he knew that Knock Out was prone to seeking leverage and power. He both wanted to prevent them gaining more opportunities to conspire together and prevent Knock Out from finding some hold over Starscream. The standings and dynamics in the ship were necessary. They were not so steadfast to be considered an axiom, but enough of the status quo to be considered a _rule_. Soundwave did not enjoy deviation. 

Soundwave flared his field out in encouragement of _warmth_ , _safety_ , _home_. Positive EM reinforcement was medically proven and recorded to encourage healing. Its effective percent varied from individual to individual, but Soundwave had not experimented how greatly it affected Starscream. That sort of data was not relevant. The helpfulness of it was undeniable, and Soundwave’s primary objective here was to repair Starscream as efficiently was possible. 

Starscream, as usual — though this was only the fifth time Soundwave had to perform these repairs — lay in the depths of unconsciousness. It was for the better. Soundwave preferred working in silence, and he had no doubt that Starscream would object to the repair. 

As he reset the joints in Starscream’s crushed wrists, sliding thin rods into Starscream’s energon lines to straighten dents from the inside, Laserbeak sent him feeds from his console. He rolled a warm wave of appreciation back to her and it coursed equally through his field. Multi-tasking was a delight, his processor churning into cataloguing, analysing, portioned neatly into multiple streams of directives.

Energon lines were slotted back into their places, more intricate stitching used to hold two ends together where they had been split, and a different type of salve applied. Soundwave glanced back to Starscream’s valve. Starscream’s self-repair was remarkable. The tears were closing up already. He would be able to remove the stitching soon. 

In its housing, Starscream’s spike was next for Soundwave to repair. He corded off Starscream’s primary nerve in his hip and then focused on the spike’s cap where it had been bent completely. Soundwave retrieved a welder and turned it onto precision burn to heat the metal, coaxing it back into shape, careful to avoid delicate wiring or at least stay below their temperature threshold. 

When Starscream’s spike had been repaired to acceptable standard, Soundwave fuelled him with quarter of a cube of med-grade. Soundwave did not have these in abundance. Moreover, Starscream was usually adequately fuelled. He raised to cube to Starscream’s lips — surprisingly unharmed — and watched the thin stream disappear down into his intake until he surmised that it was enough. A glance at Starscream’s diagnostics panel told him that Starscream was, in fact, still above 60%. 

Soundwave placed the cube away into one of his own cabinets. He knelt on the ground once more, between Starscream’s legs, a needle unthreading the stitching in his valve. The seams had closed over with fresh and tender lining, raised slightly in evidence of a new scar. What did Megatron desire in this scarred valve? Soundwave pursed his lips behind the visor in disapproval, then reminded himself that he had to maintain the positive field, easing back into thoughts of Laserbeak, of her happiness when she had wind under her wings. 

Broader dents were encouraged back into place with light touches and pulses of charge designed to promote energon flow and material transfer. Soundwave knelt over Starscream for the better half of several hours. He was becoming familiar with the sensation of Starscream’s muted field and the sight of him in unconsciousness. 

It was foolish, Soundwave decided. Both that Megatron took Starscream time after time, and that Starscream let him. And that Soundwave found himself repairing Starscream again and again. 

Soundwave returned Starscream to his quarters and disappeared off to his duties, the seeker none the wiser. 

*

By the seventeenth time, it was established routine. 

Soundwave had his chest open, one of his own fuel lines unlatched and connected into Starscream. He played a small song to Laserbeak as he worked around the seeker while she helped him by handing over materials, needles or buffers in her beak, delicately chosen. Their fields intertwined and thrummed together. 

Soundwave was coming to recognise this as a relaxing ordeal. It had become an easy excuse to coax his emotions into more positive ones — Laserbeak admitted to him that she enjoyed it — and he found himself regarding Starscream as one of his symbionts, almost. At least when Starscream was unconscious like this. On the ship-deck, and on the field, there was never such a slip.

Starscream’s field responded to him, superimposing gently around the edges. It was never something that happened when they were awake, and only starting to occur because Starscream was beaten so often.

It was mostly Starscream’s fault. It was the second time this _week_ that Soundwave had him in his quarters. He was gracing Megatron’s berth with alarming frequency. 

It seemed this time that Megatron had caused Starscream to purge somehow. Both his fuel levels were depleted and the metal around his mouth was folded and crumpled. Soundwave inspected it closely, cautious surges of charge to ensure that the wiring inside was still in working order. When it appeared functional, Soundwave buffed it out, music subconsciously purring louder. Laserbeak preened.

There was something satisfying in putting the seeker back together. Soundwave was always a mech that delighted in productivity, and turning Starscream from a mess into a functional mech was something Soundwave was rapidly becoming apt in. Familiar clean lines of Starscream’s wings had been buffed back into place, his valve’s nodes’ wiring re-attached and re-configured, his panel replaced entirely — Soundwave had ordered a new one from Shockwave with all the appropriate measurements, and simply cited that it was for Megatron’s pleasure — and his plating polished clean while his self-repair closed the wounds that Soundwave could not. 

After Soundwave fixed Starscream’s glossa, he would touch up Starscream’s stripped paint while the self-repair finished its last, undo the stitching holding some wounds closed, and return Starscream to his quarters. 

It was almost tragic that Soundwave now _had_ paint fitting Starscream’s colour scheme in his quarters. All his furnishings, at this point, were in some way relevant to this latest pastime. It was not unexpected. Soundwave did not use his quarters otherwise. He was a mech that recharged throughout the day while his processor still flickered through surveillance feeds. 

He had even replaced some of the solvent wash with the ultra-sensitive and anti-inflammatory type. He’d hoisted it out of the cargo holds and no mech even noticed. If they’d asked, he’d merely say it was for Laserbeak. 

Soundwave enjoyed this. It was a part of a routine. 

That was, until Soundwave was leaning over Starscream, peering into his open mouth for damage to his glossa and Starscream’s optics opened. 

It was testimony to how comfortable Soundwave was with the fact that Starscream always seemed to be unconscious that he didn’t notice until a set of claws planted themselves onto his shoulders and _pushed_. Soundwave toppled off the berth with a bleat of static, energon line detaching from Starscream with a painful _pop_.

_Then_ the shrieking started. “What in the absolute _pit-slagged hell_ do you think you’re–“

Starscream cut off because his glossa _was_ injured, spitting curses of pain instead, and now Soundwave was on the floor, gushing energon from one of his primary lines that he’d disconnected to feed into Starscream. He scrambled to reconnect it, because Starscream’s end was open as well, weeping energon from his already low levels.

“Don’t _touch_ me!” Starscream shrieked, writhing, and Soundwave winced as the stitching in his valve and around his thighs would’ve inevitably tore. 

Soundwave had no solution. He was notoriously awful at handling Starscream when he was awake. One hand was holding the end of his line that was still squirting out energon, the other hovering hesitantly over the thrashing bundle of anger that was Starscream. It was rapidly becoming a disaster.

Laserbeak alighted on his shoulder and presented him an energon cap that he pushed into place onto the struggling seeker’s open wire. Soundwave handed his line over to Laserbeak and she clamped it shut with her beak.

For some reason that seemed to draw Starscream’s attention. His optics fixed suspiciously onto Laserbeak. His mouth was shut into a thin angry line. 

Soundwave’s visor flickered into an expression: (~_~;) 

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?“ Starscream demanded, and then winced his mouth back shut as energon flecked from it. 

Soundwave spread a hand across Starscream’s chest and sent a data burst that translated mostly into _lie back down until your repairs are finished_.

Starscream did, eyeing Soundwave all the while. Soundwave reconnected their energon lines and was pleased to see that Starscream allowed that, lifting his arm away huffily from where Soundwave attached it. 

Soundwave, in the meanwhile, was finding it difficult to start up a positive EM field again. Starscream awake was a very different thing from Starscream _not_ awake. Regardless, his music began to play. Laserbeak bobbed in agreement — then he spread his EM signals as reassuring, gentle, safe. Starscream relaxed only minutely into it. His gaze was more suspicious than ever. 

He would just have to deal with it. 

Usually, Soundwave knelt above Starscream’s hips when he address injuries on his torso. Usually, in fact, Soundwave was practically _on_ Starscream, uncaring of any sort of protocol or outward appearance because it didn’t matter. Soundwave did his job. He fixed Starscream. Proximity was useful. Starscream did not wake up. 

This time Soundwave sat by the edge of the berth. He started by re-doing the wounds on Starscream’s arms. They were the least intrusive. Starscream’s prickling presence was forgotten as he lost himself in the plunge and pull of the needle, the re-alignment of wires, wiping energon, inducing charge flow. 

When he was finished with the arm, Starscream had lapsed back into unconsciousness. Soundwave relaxed in relief. He re-did Starscream’s valve and then opened his mouth to reset his glossa. It was twisted out of place, and Soundwave’s thin fingers came into use as he pried and set the panels there back where they should’ve been. Where the glossa had tears, Soundwave did not stitch; he set some thicker nanite gel over it and concluded that his work would have to finish there for now. 

He hurried over to the other side of the room, retrieved the paint, and daubed one indulgent swipe of red over a streak of Starscream’s plain plating — he had memorised where Starscream’s stripes should’ve been — and watched it dry. Then he knelt back down and released all the stitching with some appreciation of Starscream’s heroic self-repair as usual.

It was as he was carrying Starscream back to his quarters that he awoke again. “You,” he said in his rasping tone. Soundwave looked down. He did not pause walking, however. “ _You_ ,” Starscream repeated, his claws digging into Soundwave’s plating. His optics were focused intently on Soundwave’s visor as though some secret could be pried out of it.

Soundwave had no answer to that. It hadn’t been a question. A subtle strand of telepathy only told him that Starscream’s processor was in turmoil.

That wasn’t Soundwave’s problem. He deposited Starscream lightly back into his own berth and left like a shadow.

*

Starscream did not seek out Megatron for months after that. Soundwave knew this both because he saw everything in the ship and because Megatron was growing restless. 

Meetings became _odd_. Starscream did not snipe back any of Megatron’s jibes. Not one officer in the ship hadn’t noticed it, but from what Soundwave heard, they all merely assumed it to be a new sort of challenge that Starscream had set for Megatron. 

Soundwave, personally, had no idea. He reminded himself that his duty of repairing Starscream was no longer necessary and fell back into old habits. He remained at his console every hour of every day, aware that sometimes the SIC was watching him from around the corners.

Surely it wasn’t _that_ perplexing. Even Shockwave would’ve been able to realise that Soundwave had simply been following the most rational action afforded to him. That said, Shockwave was the epitome of following rationality, so perhaps the comparison wasn’t apt. 

Today Megatron had cornered Starscream down one of the corridors and had physically reached out to grab one of Starscream’s wings. Starscream snarled back, claws lashing out — and Megatron caught them and pulled him closer and it became the usual push and pull between them, Starscream eventually hauled up and speared unceremoniously on Megatron’s spike. The difference this time was that when Starscream arched his back in a pained or pleasured cry — Soundwave could not tell — he threw his helm back to stare directly at one of Soundwave’s cameras.

Soundwave was not impressed. 

No part of him enjoyed watching them interfacing. Megatron, the powerful and formidable Megatron, rutting desperately against this idiotic and hedonistic seeker. This same idiotic and hedonistic seeker going out of his way to seek injury with interface. 

He turned his attention away from the feed, turning his sights onto other parts of the ship and tamping down any bitterness. They were only a distant broadcast, Megatron overloading with his usual roar and habit of smashing Starscream against the nearest available surface that send him reeling into offline. 

An hour later, Soundwave was gathering the crumpled seeker into his arms from the corridor when Starscream stirred. “Ah,” he croaked, one optic cracking open. “Guess who put in a few _processor upgrades_? Just in time to see my little knight come scampering in.”

Soundwave was very tempted to _drop_ him, but Soundwave was never so petty. Instead he took Starscream to his quarters, to his washracks. Starscream watched his every move through a bleary haze. As much as Starscream might’ve gone to Knock Out for helm adjustments and upgrades (Soundwave saw everything, he had seen that too) it would hardly be enough to survive him Megatron’s full violent rut. 

Anti-inflammatory over swelled plating. Solvent for the sensitive over the rest of his frame. Starscream in his soothed, concussed form was much like Starscream in his unconscious. Soundwave simply ignored that he was watched and took care of him, carrier coding practically purring in delight. 

Then onto the berth. Laserbeak had come in and was chirping at him, her field warm and inviting. Starscream seemed to respond to her well. He started calling her _strange small rodent seeker_ , his own EM field reaching out. Soundwave recorded it as he stitched up the worst of injuries in Starscream’s valve. Starscream seemed distracted by Laserbeak nipping at his fingers. 

When he had two fingers in Starscream’s valve, spreading gel and lotion, Starscream looked down. “Already got me into berth, gorgeous,” he slurred. “Why not give me a try?”

Soundwave batted away one of Starscream’s legs that was attempting to hook around his head to drag him closer to his valve. Soundwave had no interest in Starscream’s valve. It was scarred beyond anything pleasurable at this point and he had already attributed it to something clinical — and, moreover, Soundwave had always preferred using _his_ own valve. He was not a spike mech. 

He tweaked out Starscream’s energon lines with the lingering bemusement that Starscream had failed in his own plot. Doubtless, his reinforcement of his processor was to keep a better eye on Soundwave, but it seemed to have backfired because Starscream was slurring nonsense at him. Soundwave recorded it all simply because it amused him. 

“You know,” Starscream said, as Soundwave fitted his shoulder-joint back together, “I thought you were _Megatron_.”

Soundwave did not respond. Whether or not he said anything didn’t seem to affect Starscream’s rambling either way. “So stupid, right?” At least Soundwave concurred with that one. He let his field tinge with the agreement. “’S why I kept going. Couldn’t _believe_ it. But it was _you_. Invisible, insufferable _Soundwave_.”

Soundwave flicked one of Starscream’s lines in admonishment for the comment, but he didn’t seem to notice it. 

“Kinda cute seeing you play nurse,” Starscream leered. “Could give Knock Out a run for his creds. Eh? How about that. Become ship doctor.”

Starscream grabbed one of his hands, silver claws wrapping around his five spindly fingers. Soundwave stopped, looked down, and gently pried open his grasp. He needed that hand. Then his other hand was captured as well and he was tugged downwards. 

“Don’t put me back,” Starscream said, and sounded much more cognisant than he was meant to be.

Did he mean not to fix him? Soundwave didn’t think so. His puzzlement must’ve alerted Laserbeak, because she sent him a burst of _Starscream/quarters_. He acknowledged the message and patted her helm clumsily. 

If Starscream didn’t want to, then he could stay. There was little difference between Soundwave’s quarters and his own. Perhaps he wanted greater access to medical care?

Starscream hadn’t been injured too heavily this time, and it was likely because Megatron had taken him only once in the middle of the corridor. Soundwave was mostly finished. He took out the indulgent paint cans and set to repainting where Starscream had been scuffed. He did it with his fingers, Starscream’s optics lidding as Soundwave stroked over him in long, sweeping pulls. 

Then when he was complete, he made to return to the command deck but Starscream’s claws closed around his skinny wrist. “Stay here,” Starscream said. Soundwave looked over at him. Laserbeak had tucked herself between his shoulder and helm and was churring contentedly in recharge. 

Soundwave did.

*

Soundwave’s berth saw far more use in the following months. Soundwave was unused to recharging for long periods like that, and often woke in the night antsy with the need to work. So he’d installed a console into the wall by the berth, visor scrolling with numbers and text as Starscream lay sprawled by his legs. The seeker was a tactile sleeper — and by this, Soundwave meant _cuddly_. His EM field constantly pulsed with memories of sunlight and wind and freedom and general satisfaction. He hugged Soundwave’s legs when Soundwave sat up to work. 

Starscream had not interfaced with Megatron again. As far as Soundwave knew, he had not interfaced with anybody. 

Soundwave supposed he was to feel grateful — that Megatron, the mech that had captured his entire life since the first day they’d met in the gladiator rings, was no longer interfacing with any other — but mostly his processor was spent trying to unravel the mystery that was Starscream. Starscream stopped screeching at him in the corridors. He agreed with Soundwave in meetings. He listened without arguing when Soundwave sent him orders… unless they were tagged with Megatron’s designation. Then Starscream would storm off, argue with Megatron, but always dart away before Megatron could pull him into berth. 

Instead, he returned to Soundwave’s berth, again and again. Soundwave had long given him the code to his quarters — there was nothing incriminating in there that Starscream could use, anyway — and so Starscream had apparently claimed it as his own. All he did in it was insist on Soundwave recharging with him, and even when Soundwave had taken a dip with telepathy, all he saw was this smug sense of relish and contentedness. Having an encouraging field was good for his recharge, Starscream had announced proudly, and as far as Soundwave could ascertain, this was true. 

Knock Out sniffed that Starscream was in peak condition after Soundwave raided his medical files. Soundwave could confirm that his performance in raids had ratcheted up even higher. 

He found himself reluctantly approving. Starscream’s behaviour had become _impeccable_ — at least for Starscream standards. He did what he was told to do, most days, as long as the orders were reasonable. His angry shouting was no longer a daily occurrence to _anyone_ in the halls. He took Laserbeak on flights and whatever they did there, Laserbeak radiated happiness. 

This was all, apparently, due to him becoming a downright amicable anchor in Soundwave’s berth. 

Soundwave was surprised that the other two seekers hadn’t piled into his room either. He’d spotted the trio in a silent stare-off the other time, their wings twitching and flashing in their language known only to fliers — which Soundwave was also versed in, of course, but it was conveyed in so many quick sweeps and short-cuts for slang that Soundwave found himself hard-pressed to follow the meaning. He knew it definitely mentioned _him_ , but unless Starscream was planning to assassinate him — which Soundwave would be able to pick out of his thoughts immediately — he wasn’t too concerned. 

Then Starscream began following him in the _day_. He would sidle up with fuel at Soundwave’s console and Soundwave would dip a grateful cable in. Starscream would watch him refuel with a satisfied glint, and then he’d purr, brush their fields together — dripping lust and desire and pride — and stalk off with a pleased toss of his helm. 

At first, Soundwave had assumed Starscream was merely trying to pay off some sort of misplaced debt. Now, he was growing more confident that Starscream was somehow trying to _seduce_ him. 

Was Starscream using him as a barrier between him and Megatron? It made no sense. 

He returned to his quarters and as usual Starscream was already there. Unlike Soundwave who worked over-time, he always returned first. “Soundwave.” Starscream’s voice _caressed_ his name, dripping lasciviousness. He spread his legs. “Come to berth.”

Soundwave spun on his heel to leave.

Then there was a claw hauling him back and his data-cable latched onto the doorway in protest. He sent a panicked burst of data while Starscream said, “What do I have to do to get you to interface?!”

His protests stopped. He allowed Starscream to drag him in, the door sliding shut, and his visor displayed:  Σ（・口・；）！

“Of _course_ I want to frag!” Starscream screeched back, somehow understanding Soundwave’s unspoken question immediately. “This is– these months have been the longest I’ve gone _without_!” 

It was not Soundwave’s fault he was a nymphomaniac. Soundwave sent _I don’t spike_ and found himself pulled to the berth.

“ _I_ do,” Starscream breathed, and then he was all over him, dipping into Soundwave’s sensitive seams and playing his glossa over Soundwave’s plating. Soundwave’s vocaliser spat garbled static as Starscream dropped a kiss against his visor and then trailed more down his body, down his thighs, laving over the softer metal there and returning to his panel. 

Soundwave, woefully out of touch, found himself writhing and his panel snapping open easily under Starscream’s claws. Starscream dove for his valve, licking and sucking at it until Soundwave clamped his thighs around Starscream’s shoulders and shot through overload with a whimpering cry.

He felt like his processor had been taken out of his helm and shoved back in. His fingers fondled sloppily over Starscream’s helm, cradling the side of it as Starscream ate him out with relish. Then Starscream was back at his neck, nipping at his cabling as his fingers sunk into Soundwave’s valve. 

“Tightest thing this side of the universe,” Starscream taunted, and for some reason Soundwave clamped down even harder at the words, lubricant gushing over Starscream’s fingers. Starscream laughed at him. “Sweetest thing, too,” he said, voice just erring on the side of fond, and he pressed a kiss just under Soundwave’s jaw. 

Then he twisted his fingers and Soundwave arched his back blindly with the sensation, his data-cables slipping free and battering uselessly at the edges of the berth and the walls. Starscream sat back to watch him writhe, because Soundwave was mess, valve clutching desperately at Starscream’s toying. His thighs were pushed back towards his chest, the slimness of his hips accentuated.

“Almost prettier than me,” Starscream crowed. His spike had extended, and for all that Soundwave had seen it and handled it before, it had never been like this, pressurised fully and dripping with lubricants. He trembled with the anticipation. 

At the first broach of the full ring of sensors at the rim of Soundwave’s valve, charge _barrelled_ through Soundwave like lightning. He overloaded harder than he’d ever remembered coming. All his data-cables flew taut and he gave a desperate, breathless cry. 

Then Starscream’s spike thrust deeper and Soundwave was lost. His fingers slid ineffectually over Starscream’s plating, his cables, winding around his arms, his waist, and his head thrashed from side to side as Starscream pushed into him again and again. His broken vocaliser gave attempts to spit out Starscream’s name, or patch-worked versions of _yes yes yes ah- please-_ as Starscream’s spike parted his supple walls, pressed into his small valve that hardly remembered being so stimulated. Each movement sent Soundwave moaning, and the long drags that his valve walls clung to despite all the lubricant nearly offlined him with sensation. 

The entire berth shook and Soundwave slid up and down it weakly. Starscream eased his spike deeper and deeper with each shove of his hips until the tip of it bumped the very end of Soundwave’s valve, nudging the shy fluttering opening there that lead to his gestation chamber. And still he did not let up. Starscream fucked him with long, deep movements that made Soundwave keen each time his gestation chamber was teased at, that small slit flexing with the need to dilate wider, be ready to receive what Starscream would give him. 

Starscream’s claws dug into the softer, plush metal of his aft and hauled him back onto each stroke. He was panting with the exertion, but his optics were alight and his field pressed into Soundwave with the same intensity as he impaled him. Soundwave overloaded again for the third time, tightening hard on Starscream with a startled gasp. 

He was flipped, aft lifted up, lewdly presented to Starscream with his valve trickling fluid. Then he was filled once more with Starscream’s spike. At this angle Starscream pushed deeper, plunging with gravity, kneading Soundwave’s aft and spreading his cheeks so that his spike sliding into that cute opening was all the more clearer. Soundwave whined continuously with the overstimulation, data-cables practically tearing the edges of the berth as Starscream shoved _deep_ , the round and thick head of his spike pressed right against the hole to his gestation tank as he shot his transfluid in an electric hot jet. 

Soundwave’s every strut flared with charge and he overloaded from head to pede, shaking so hard with the sensation of Starscream _inside him_ , coming inside him, that the stimulation tore straight to his head and he offlined immediately. 

When he awoke, Starscream was purring around him. His array had been cleaned, they were propped up by the headboard, and Laserbeak had returned rather knowingly to the now-dark room. 

_It went well_ , she sent to him, sounding pleased. 

What had gone well? 

_He mated you,_ she said, and Soundwave paused to let that sink in. Then he sifted through thousands of databases back to seeker protocols. 

There were lists and lists of conflicting information, but most of it could be centralised to period of courting, feeding, protection, physical proximity — sealed with interface. 

Starscream had disguised it rather well, Soundwave thought. 

_Why?_ he asked her.

_Who knows._ She flew over to them, tucking herself into a space between them. Starscream drowsily petted her. _Just likes you._

If it was a mating — it would be too far for Starscream to go for a manipulative play. Satisfied, Soundwave settled into recharge. 

Megatron was forgotten.

 

**Author's Note:**

> think i’m in rare-pair hell now?  
> wrote this in need for mindless fluff while i’m going to orion/shockwave hell


End file.
